First Day
by inugrl21
Summary: There is always a first day and a first chance to make an impression.
1. Wreck-It Ralph

**Wreck-it Ralph**

Ralph awoke to the sound of rumbling and the feeling of movement. He had just gone to sleep and was dreaming of bright golden things when he was roused. He decided to investigate and popped out of his stump, in time to watch a little shoveler drive away.

"Hey!" he yelled. "You moved my stump!" He growled and pounded his fists against the side of his stump. This show of anger did nothing to intimidate the machine. It even had to nerve to keep driving away.

Well, apparently Ralph was going to have to investigate for himself. He crawled out of the stump and began to follow the machine. It led him to a construction site where a building was being rapidly built. And by rapidly, Ralph meant instantly. In less than five seconds, the multi-storied building was complete and people were moving in. Ralph stood and stared in awe at this modern marvel. He wondered what the inside looked like and if it would be big enough for him.

He watched as lights came on in each of the rooms and he could see the little people bouncing around inside. Ralph began to slowly walk towards the structure, intent on meeting his new neighbors. That's when he noticed where the building was located. This was where his stump had been. They moved his stump!

The anger started to burn in him again. Why did they have to move his stump? There was plenty of space, why did they have to take the area where he lived? Ralph finally reached the side of the building, but he no longer wanted to go inside. In fact he wanted to…

"I'M GONNA WRECK IT!"

He began to smash his giant fists into the walls and windows, anywhere he could reach. When the first floor was properly demolished, he started to climb. On one of the floors, Ralph looked into a window and saw a short man with dark hair and a moustache. Before he could think, he had reached into the room, grabbed the little guy and chucked him as far as he could.

Ralph grimaced after throwing the guy. Maybe later he could go back and apologize. But for now… There was more building to crush.

He eventually made his way to the top floor and, in true King Kong fashion, roared his dominance over the structure. Suddenly a cry came from the floors below.

"FIX IT, FELIX!"

It was the tenants calling for help. Ralph smirked, knowing it would take a lot of people and a lot of time to fix the damage he had done. He glanced down and watched as scrawny looking guy in blue appeared next to the building. Ralph laughed to himself at the ridiculousness of the situation.

A glint of gold caught Ralph's attention. What was that? He squinted trying to get a better view. The little guy was holding something shiny.

"I can fix it!"

Felix, for it must be he, leapt onto the building and started swinging the hammer that he was holding against the damaged building. Every time the tool touched a broken brick or window, it was miraculously restored.

Ralph realized that if he didn't do something soon, the building would be completely repaired and he would be in huge trouble. So he did the first thing that came to mind; he began smashing his fists on the floor he was standing on. Every time he did, loose bricks would fall and almost hit Felix. However, Felix was pretty decent at leaping out of the way.

Every once in a while though, a brick would hit Felix just right and he would collapse with a flower in his hands, but in moments he would pop back up and continue fixing the building. This only made Ralph more angry and caused him to speed up.

Then it happened. One of the tenants cried "Yoo-hoo" and put a pie on the window sill. Felix hopped over to it and gobbled it up. Suddenly he was turbo charged and nothing could stop him. Before Ralph knew what was happening, the building was fixed and he was on the roof, surrounded by the tenants and Felix.

The clouds above their heads parted and a mighty gold disc floated down. Ralph went to raise his arms to grab the disc. But before he could reach it, it shrank and shot towards Felix, landing around his neck. Ralph could only stare in longing at what he now recognized as a medal. Then the tenants hoisted the poor giant over their heads and chucked him off the roof.

Ralph tumbled through the air and landed with a magnificent splat in a large puddle of mud. He glanced up to the top of the building, where he had been standing moments before. He saw the little man that he had thrown earlier glaring down at him. Ralph winced at the hatred coming from that tiny body, and slowly stood. No apology would be enough to rectify his deeds. He was a bad guy, and bad guys didn't get medals.

* * *

Felix watched as the big guy wandered off towards the Dump, where the used bricks were going to be deposited. He felt sorry for the guy, having just been soundly defeated and with no real place to call home. At least Felix had pie.

A brilliant idea occurred to him: to bring his brother-in-arms some of the pie he was currently holding. That would show that there were no hard feelings about the day.

Just as he was turning to run downstairs and fulfill his wonderful plan, the tenants of Niceland came bounding up, showering praise and compliments on Felix. The hustle and bustle caused by his fans distracted Felix from his good intentions.

Unfortunately, it would be thirty years before Felix could make good on his good intentions.


	2. Sugar Rush

**Sugar rush**

"Please princess. Please put on the outfit" the little green cough drop begged, following the monarch of Sugar Rush, trailing a stiff pink monstrosity of a dress behind him.

"I already told you, Sour Bill. I refuse to wear something so pink and frilly on the first day of racing." Vanellope von Schweetz declared, pulling on her racing gloves. "If you like it so much, why don't you wear it?" she said, completely ignoring the incredulous stare from behind.

"But princess…"

"I said, no, Bill," the little girl growled. "That outfit just isn't me. Now come on, we don't want to be late." She scurried through the large front doors, the cough drop close on her heels. Neither one noticed the shadow creeping around the pillars of the great hall, making its way to the throne room. Nor did they hear the evil cackle that echoed ominously, followed by a triumphant "turbotastic!"

* * *

Vanellope stood at the grand stand and surveyed her kingdom. Bright blue sky was the backdrop for the candy coated paradise she called home.

To the north were the Ice Cream Mountains, the coldest section of Sugar Rush. To the south was the exit to Game Central Station, where Vanellope fully intended to go after the day's racing was over. East was Diet Cola Mountain and to the west… Ah, the west was where the race track was laid out in all its high-speed glory.

She sighed in contentment, and grinned excitedly. This was her life; everything she knew, and had been programmed for was on that racetrack. Before she was a princess, even before she was Vanellope, she was a racer.

"Ahem"

Vanellope turned to the green candy next to her. He tapped his non-existent wrist to indicate that it was time to start. She nodded in acknowledgement and stepped up to the microphone.

"Alright, everyone. It's almost time!" Cheers erupted from the fan boxes. "Now the first rooster has been preset, but tonight! Tonight we will have the first daily random rooster race. The first nine racers to cross the finish line will be the racers for the next day." The racers down in the pit, eight in all (not including herself), waved their arms and whistled loudly of their approval. Vanellope grinned and waved back to all of her friends.

"Now, to your places! May the best racer win and I'll see you at the finish line." The princess stepped away from the mic, grabbed her helmet, and began to make her way to her racecar.

However, when she reached the track, a sudden burst of pain ripped through her abdomen. She doubled over and fell to her knees. Another jolt of pain lanced her head, making the bright sunlight even brighter and extremely painful. The last thing she remembered before everything went black was all of her subjects running towards her in concern.

* * *

Vanellope awoke In the Candy Tree Forest, not entirely sure how she got there. All she could remember was an excruciating amount of pain and blackness. She slowly began to take stock of herself. Her name: Vanellope von Schweetz, her home: Sugar Rush, her purpose:…

This is where she drew a blank. She knew she was there for a reason, but she was darned if she knew what it was.

A faint cheering sound grabbed her attention. Deciding that exploration was better than nothing, she stood up, dusted herself off, and made her way towards the noise.

Soon, Vanellope found herself among a crowd of candies and cookies that were wildly cheering for several racers. Watching the karts crossing the finish line gave her a sense of exhilaration that she wasn't sure how to deal with. She was so entranced by the race track and its racers that she didn't notice the barrier until she ran up against it. At this point, she finally noticed that there was a voice carrying above the cheering.

"Well done, racers! Our first day of racing is complete and congratulations to the winners." The very nasally voice continued on. "Now, we will have our random rooster race. Remember, it is pay to play and everyone starts off with 5 coins. These are freebies but you won't get any more unless you win a race. I'll go first."

Vanellope watched as a big headed, poufy pantsed, little man threw a golden coin towards the finish line. The coin bounced and landed in the cup in the middle. An electronic voice announced "King Candy", putting a name to the ridiculous little man. Her excitement grew as the other racers used one of their precious gold coins to enter the race. She began searching her pockets for one of those coins, while making her way to the line.

Suddenly she found herself running into a solid, slightly squishy cop donut. "And where do you think you're going, girly?" he demanded, standing in her way.

"I-I was just going to put my coin in" she gulped, still frantically searching her pockets.

The donut raised an eyebrow skeptically, "And do you have said coin?"

"Umm-"

"Winchell, what's going on here?" The little man from before, King Candy, approached from behind. The donut straightened up quickly and saluted.

"Nothing, sir. She claims she wants to enter the rooster race."

For a split second, Vanellope thought she caught a look of anger and hatred on the jolly king's face, but when she looked again, it had been replaced with a look of pity. "Oh, my dear, I'm afraid you don't have any coins."

Vanellope frowned, "But…"

"No, you see, you're a glitch," he said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "And we can't allow glitches to race." The young girl froze, pixilated for a moment, then returned to normal. "There, you see. We can't have glitches in the program, but here you are anyway. The best thing for you to do is cheer on the racers we do have and let them do their jobs. Ok?"

King Candy than patted her on her head, before turning away to get into his racecar. Vanellope stared after him, her expression completely crushed. Sure, she had no memory of her purpose, but all of her instincts cried out for the race course.

Realizing there was nothing for her to do today, Vanellope vowed to herself that one day, one day she would be a racer and prove the king wrong. She would be a racer and win every single race. Just wait and see.


	3. Hero's Duty

**Hero's Duty**

Sergeant Tamora J. Calhoun surveyed the landscape of her game. It was a dark and dismal sight fraught with danger and Cy-Bugs. But for the sergeant, it was also a reminder of grief and failure.

Six months ago, she'd had everything; a blossoming career, a wonderful fiancé, and a bright future. Then it had all disappeared in a flash of black chitinous jaws and a flurry of neon green wings. One single mistake made in the rush of wedding jitters had ripped everything away from her. The guilt and remorse had then broken her.

It had taken long bouts of intensive therapy and an extended medical leave to bring Tamora back to this point. Granted, she wasn't happy, but at least she wasn't soul-crushingly depressed anymore. The flashbacks had reduced significantly. Now it took specific stimuli to induce one, as opposed to absolutely nothing.

Ideally, Tamora should have resigned from the service, but her determination to not be defeated kept her in the corp. In fact, the council had wanted her to stay away for a few more months, just in case, but she had argued that the best therapy for her would be to decimate the creatures responsible. She just didn't tell them she considered herself one of those creatures.

Tamora had no intention of harming herself, but by throwing herself into her work, maybe she could feel a little less self-loathing. The truth of the matter was that she only felt worthy when she was protecting something. Destroying every last Cy-Bug was the best way, and if she just happened to get a feeling of smug satisfaction from wiping out the bugs, then no one was any wiser.

"Sergeant Calhoun."

Tamora snapped her attention to her new lieutenant, Greg Kohut. The tall, dark man performed a crisp salute, only dropping it after her nod of acknowledgement.

"What is it, Kohut?"

"The men are ready for you to address them and the arcade will open in ten minutes."

Tamora looked out over the landscape one last time. Its bleakness appealed to her frame of mind, but this was no time to linger on such thoughts. Shaking her head, the sergeant turned her attention fully to the task at hand.

"Lead the way, soldier."

* * *

"Listen up, pussywillows." Sergeant Calhoun barked at her troops. All of the men were hulking bulks of muscle and yet they scrambled to attention at their commander's voice. "I'm only going to go over the rules once.

"The first rule is that we do NOT interfere with the first person shooter." She gestured to the robot behind her, its monitor blank for the moment. "Our job is to get the player to the top of the tower in order to receive the Medal of Heroes. Not all players will make it, but for the few who do, we will provide the way.

"The second rule is, until that beacon goes up and every last Cy-Bug has entered, you must be on your guard. I don't want any mistakes." At this point, Tamora paused and glared at her men. She searched for any sign of weakness or trace of hesitation. There was not a single twitch from the men, but she knew that could change by the end of the day.

"And my third and final rule is this: Follow my every command. This first level may only be a tutorial level, but the number of Cy-Bugs and possibilities for error are numerous. There is NO room for error on my watch." She knew what some of the men would be thinking. That her history was interfering with her duty, but Tamora was determined to show everyone how ready she was to be back in the game. There would be no stopping her.

"Quarter alert! Quarter alert!"

The call to action rang through the staging area. Tamora grabbed her helmet and placed it over her head. "Okay, ladies," she barked, "time to suit up and show these players what we're worth. "

The first player shooter whirred to life and made its way over to the sergeant. Tamora could see the player; a scrawny little boy with extra-large glasses that were sure to get him beat up. Well, whatever happened to the players outside of the game was no concern of hers. Now it was time to focus on the job at hand.

"We are humanity's last hope. Our Mission? Destroy all Cy-Bugs. You ready, rookie? Let's find out."

And it began.

* * *

"The arcade's closed."

Tamora heard the announcement with a trace of disappointment. Although the day had been long, with a new player every few minutes, she felt a surge of satisfaction. Her men had performed admirably with hardly any problems. The only hiccup had been when one of the men was eaten by a Cy-Bug. What was his name? Tamora searched her memory for the soldier's name. Mar something.

Luckily, the soldier regenerated outside of the bug a few moments later, but Tamora had a feeling she would have to keep an eye on him. In fact, she thought she'd seen him rushing to leave the game as soon as the call came. She glanced over to the transport and saw the soldier boarding the train to Game Central Station.

"Probably going to the local bar," Tamora muttered to herself. She shrugged and proceeded to the mess hall, a bounce in her step. For some reason, she knew that this assignment would be just the thing she needed to overcome her past and finally move forward.

She was going to be just fine.


End file.
